Mr Wrong
by MusikLuver
Summary: Hermione Granger’s life is going great: She just got a promotion at the Ministry, & she’s engaged to the perfect man, Harry Potter. But what happens when Mr. Totally Wrong comes into her life? Is he really so wrong?
1. The New Minister

Disclaimer: These characters are in no way mine, sadly.  So far, I haven't made any up, so they all belong to Miss Rowling.

Mr. Wrong

**Summary: _Hermione Granger's life is going great.  She's engaged to the perfect man, Harry Potter.  She just got a promotion at the Ministry, and was nominated "Most Likely to Succeed" by Witch Weekly._**

_But what happens when Mr. Totally Wrong comes into her life?  Is he really so wrong? D/Hr_

**Chapter 1: The New Minister**

Hermione Granger sighed, satisfied.  She glanced at the heaping pile of papers that she had just corrected.

She checked her watch, and smiled.  It just about time to leave for home.

_I'll just get this to the Minister…then sign out.  Where did Harry say I should meet him? Hermione contemplated, still staring at her watch._

She scratched her neck, and stood up with half of the papers in her hands.  Walking towards the Minister's office, she practiced what to say.

Mr. Fudge, how lovely to see you!  It's been since—what, seventh year?  How's the wife?

Hermione raised a hand to knock, when the door swung open abruptly.

"—So sorry, sir!  I didn't mean to—" a terrified man began, halfway out the door.

"Sorry won't _cut_ it, Jenkins!  This was an important case!" a harsh voice cut in.

"I-I'm sorry, you're busy…I'll-I'll just come back," Hermione stammered, stumbling backwards.

_That wasn't Fudge!  That was most definitely not __Fudge! her mind whimpered._

"No, Granger, just give me those damned papers.  Perhaps _somebody_ could do something right at this office," he hissed, probably glaring at the man.

Hermione stepped forwards with her papers in hand, peeking around the huge door.  "Um, excuse me, but who are you?  You certainly don't _sound Mr. Fudge…"_

The man chuckled, shooing away Jenkins.  "You certainly don't miss a trick, Ms. Granger, do you?" He paused, then suddenly said, "Engaged to the famous Harry Potter, isn't that right?"

_Small talk? Hermione thought vaguely, smiling._

"Yes, yes, that's right.  Going to be Hermione Potter in seven months," she informed the stranger proudly.

"I'm sure you're very excited," he said dryly.  "What an accomplishment."

Her smile quickly melted into a frown.  "E-Excuse me?" she stuttered, feeling unsure of herself, and confused.

"You don't know who I am?" he asked, an amused tone to his voice.

"No, otherwise I'm sure I'd be calling you Mister…whatever your last name is…" she stated slowly, eyeing the back of the chair.

"Not quite as quick as you were in school, are you?"

"I'm not sure I understand you, sir."

The chair spun around, revealing an amused young man, about her age.  He looked strangely, and she couldn't quite place it.

She tilted her head, and saw his platinum blonde hair.  "DRACO?!" Hermione exclaimed, almost dropping her stack of papers in the process.

He smirked.  "That's Minister Malfoy to you, Ms. Granger," he said in a teasing accusatory voice.

Hermione's jaw dropped.  "To hell with that," she spat vehemently.  "I wouldn't _dream of ever using your title…as though you were a _respected_ man!"_

Draco frowned, and shrugged.  "It's up to you, love.  I'm insulted, I'm sure.  However…" he paused tactfully.  "Last I checked…you had no choice.  So, with that said, fetch me my coffee, peon."  With that, he gave a smile as warm as a Malfoy could muster.

"_Peon?!" she shrieked, finally dropping the papers.  "You are __crazy!  I would _never_ 'fetch' you __anything!  You…you…you stupid egotistical __bastard!"_

"Quite a colorful language you have.  I must admit I love the emphasis on words you have.  Are you always this delightful to your superiors?" Draco taunted.

"Oh yes," Hermione said sarcastically.  "They all enjoy my company _so_ much."

With a snarky little smirk, he looked her up and down.  "Yes, I would only imagine…"

She groaned in frustration.  "You're impossible!"

Draco seemingly brightened up, lifting his head higher.  "Why thank you," he replied in a cheery voice with a huge smile.

Hermione glared at him hatefully.  She reluctantly bent down to pick up the fallen papers, and handed it to him.  "The rest is in my office.  I'll get them," she mumbled stiffly.

"Nonsense!  Let me help you," Draco offered, throwing the pile he had down on his large desk.

She regarded him with curiosity and suspicion, but let him follow her nevertheless.

Upon seeing the stack, Draco whistled.  "That's a hefty load.  What idiot gave you that?"

Hermione couldn't help but feel a little proud at his hidden compliment.  "Fudge gave it to me yesterday to work on today.  Er, what happened to him?"

"Oh, that," Draco answered loftily, waving his hand.  "Terrible accident, I daresay.  I'm the new Minister for the term."

She gave him a half smile, but felt a little fearful pang in her gut.  _'A terrible accident'?_

"I see," she replied instead.

~*~

Harry Potter stood on the street corner, tapping his foot impatiently.  It was quarter of!

Hermione should have been here 10 minutes ago!  Where was she?

_Oh Merlin…I hope she isn't hurt.  And here I am, thinking the worst of her!  What if she fell into a ditch and can't get out…? Harry thought worriedly._

Suddenly, he saw her figure running towards him, hair flying.

"I'm—so—sorry," she panted breathlessly, clutching his shoulder, and taking deep breaths.  "There's—a new…a new Minister," Hermione finished, collapsing onto the bench.  "Ran as fast as I could, darling."

Harry gave her a lopsided grin.  " 'S ok, Mione.  I was just starting to worry about what happened—"

"Oh my gods!  I didn't scare you, did I, Harry?" Hermione cut in, looking upset.

"No, no, it's fine, honey.  Honestly!" Harry protested at her gaze.  "So…new Minister?  Who?"

She looked exhausted, and quite put out.  "Draco Malfoy," she answered flatly.  "He's the new Minister."

He glanced at his fiancée, half-comprehending.  "Malfoy?" he asked calmly.  Finally, it sunk in.  "MALFOY?!"

Hermione nodded weakly, clutching her stomach.

"Did he give you a hard time?" Harry asked concernedly.  "I swear, Minister or not, I'll—"

She held up her hand, causing him to immediately stop.  "Didn't touch me.  He only helped me move a stack of papers.  Well, ok, we exchanged the usual insults at first, but…he was actually fairly tolerable after a few minutes," Hermione finished thoughtfully.

"Oh," Harry replied, feeling empty.  "Malfoy didn't…make you _drink_ anything, did he?"

"Harry Potter!" Hermione giggled.  "Draco was perfectly…I dunno, he was just nice."

"_Nice?" Harry asked, disbelieving.  "You're crazy.  My fiancée has gone insane!" he laughed._

Hermione smacked his arm, getting up.  "I'm _not crazy," she protested.  "It's just that Draco was more or less a gentleman."_

"A gentleman?  Are we talking about the same Draco Malfoy here?" Harry asked, moving one finger between the two of them.  "The school snobby bully who took pleasure in calling you horrible names?  The boy who mocked you constantly?"

Her mouth opened and closed, having no remark.  It seemed as though she had just realized she was defending Draco.  "I…you're right, Harry," she finished, defeated.

Harry moved closer to her.  Wrapping one hand tenderly around her waist, he suggested, "How about we just forget about snotty old Malfoy.  He's an insufferable git anyways."

Hermione laughed.

He started guiding her towards the restaurant they were supposed to eat at.  "Then, once we order, we can start discussing the wedding.  Guests, funds, limits, places, official dates…"

She nodded.  "Of course.  Before we even get in, we know that Ron, Parvati, and Lavender simply _must_ come.  And all our teachers, of course—"

Harry teasingly covered her mouth, to get her to shut up.

"Getting a bit overzealous, are we?" he asked, as she licked his palm.  "Well, fine, if you wanted me to remove my hand, all you had to do was ask!"

Hermione stuck out her tongue as they approached the doors.  "Stinker."

He sniffed his armpits, causing her to wince.  Smirking playfully, Harry shrugged, and gave her a weird look.  "Just showered this afternoon…"

"Oh, just shut your trap, Mister Potter!" she yelled laughing.

~*~

Draco Malfoy sat with his legs stretched out onto his desk lazily, his feet crossed at the ankles.  He was slouched in his enormous black leather chair, and holding today's open copy of _The Daily Prophet over his face._

A young woman sat impatiently in the chair in front of his desk.  She bounced one leg up and down, waiting for him to notice her.

Draco smirked, only wondering who it was.  He cleared his throat, and flipped the page.  After skimming over the rest of the "_Fudge Leaves Office_" article continued from the front page, he reached around the opened paper for his cup of coffee.

A delicate hand landed on top of his, tugging impatiently at a finger that was curled around the mug.

"Minister Malfoy?" she asked frustrated.  "DRACO!" she exclaimed, ripping the paper from his hands.

Draco glared at the woman, and brushed back a lock of hair before he started to speak.  "Those reporters don't miss a trick, do they?" he asked, gesturing to the half of the paper clutched tightly within her hands.

She blushed, and handed the ripped half back to him.  "No, I suppose not," she answered quietly.

Draco leaned forward, shoving the paper aside.  He clasped his hands on his desk, and smiled with exaggerated friendliness.  "What can I do for you, Miss Weasley?"

The small redhead blinked.  "Hermione called in to take the day off, so I was here to let you know that when she takes leave—to plan for her wedding, and all—I take her spot."

He nodded.  "I see.  So, how _is_ my favorite couple doing?"

Ginny shifted a tad uncomfortably, trying not to squirm under his penetrating gaze.  "Er…very well, from what I hear."

"What you _hear_?  Aren't they your best friends?" Draco interrogated.

"W-Well, yes.  I only meant that—oh, bloody hell…Sir, I have to get back to my job," she told him firmly.

"Of course, Virginia.  Let's let you get back to what you're paid for."

Ginny was halfway out the door when he had said that, and froze when he finished it.

"Oh, and before I forget…you'll be buying me a new issue of _The Daily Prophet, right?" Draco called._

Ginny turned around, biting her lip.  She mumbled something that sounded oddly like, "You big baby" before she lifted her wand and said, "_Reparo!_"

Just as she was closing the door, she stuck out her tongue hatefully at him.  Draco let his head drop, and looked up at the door through his eyelashes, an amused look on his face.

"I saw that!" he yelled out the door in a booming voice.  If he was lucky, Miss Weasley there cringed.

Draco smirked, and returned to his first position.  He lifted the coffee back up, before he adjusted his silk black slacks, and turned to page 5.

~*~

Hermione glanced at Harry, sighing in aggravation.

"What?" he asked innocently, placing down the paper he was reading.  "What's up with you?"

She clenched her jaw, and pointed to the front page of his newspaper.  "Absolute _garbage!  He's bloody __everywhere!"_

Harry glanced at her as though she would attack him, but reluctantly picked up the paper, and flipped it to the front.

He smirked, and laid it down on the coffee table.  "What? Draco?"

Hermione glared at him, and eventually turned her gaze to the newspaper.  "Yes, that handsome bastard right there!"

Harry's jaw dropped at her use of the word.  "H-_Handsome?" he stuttered._

She grinned slyly.  "Wouldn't you like to know?" she asked virtuously, batting her long lashes.

"You're evil, Hermione Granger!" Harry scolded, clasping her hand firmly in his hand.

"Me?" she asked, smirking.

Biting her lip, Hermione looked down at the picture of Draco, which was behaving rather snarkily.  He winked at her.

Though feeling rather guilty, she couldn't help but notice how handsome he really was.  His sharp glacial silver eyes had a certain alluring glimmer to them.  Even with a smile, his lips were still slightly turned down at the sides, and it was rather endearing how Draco's silvery hair kept falling into his left eye, and he'd brush it back—

"Hermione?"

She snapped out of her little daydream, and glanced back at Harry, smiling.  "Sorry, just thinking about the perfect wedding."

Harry enveloped her in a hug quite randomly, and returned her warm smile.  It made her shiver, and clutch one arm.

"So how's Ron's mission going?" Hermione asked after a few moments of welcome silence.  "He's well, I hope?"

Harry nodded.  "Ron's being a trooper, no doubt.  After all, it can't be easy teaching DADA."

She laughed, at the way he had finally revealed what they were talking about.  Everytime they mentioned Ron's job—especially in front of important people—they'd call it his 'mission' as if it were top-secret Ministry business.  But truly, it was just Ron's teaching job.

Still, it couldn't be easy.

Hermione rested her head contentedly against Harry's strong shoulder, and glanced down at the paper he had been scribbling on.  "This wedding will be the one of the century.  After all, 'Muggleborn Marries the Famous, Drool-Worthy Harry Potter' should make for an interesting headline, don't you think?"

Harry gave a mock sigh of unhappiness.  "Damn.  Just think…I used to be 'Harry Potter, the Sexiest Eligible Bachelor in the Wizarding World'."

Hermione scoffed.  "Bit wordy, don't you think, O Quidditch Star?  Merlin, you _are full of yourself!"_

He shrugged.  "It comes with the package, sweetie.  Didn't I tell you?"

"No, must've slipped your mind," Hermione replied dryly.

"Yes…yes, must have…" he finished in fake thoughtfulness.  Harry stroked his chin with his fingers to emphasize his state of thought.

"You're funny, Potter," Hermione teased.  "Too bad it has to wait."

"Wait for what?" Harry asked curiously, very obviously hoping for one particular answer.

"For our wedding to be planned, and our life to get settled down," she answered, grinning smugly.

As it was clearly obvious that Mr. Potter was disappointed, Hermione leaned forward, and gently kissed him.

~*~

Draco groaned, and lifted himself out of his chair.  Today was one that was far too long to have been enjoyable.

It was same old, same old.  Goblins wanting pay raises, trolls wanting better rights, and the occasional oddball: Wizard time-travelling, tragically caught between the Stone Age and today.

If he had to be asked to sign _one_ more law…Well, needless to say, if he wasn't happy, the rest of the Ministry would not be happy.

At least this year, it seemed as though that old codger, Dumbledore, was staying out of trouble.  Must've been his first year without anything terribly awry.

Draco stepped out his office, and waved to Ginny Weasley.  "Great job today, Virginia.  Glad you didn't let me scare you off," he complimented her.

She smiled, waving.  "Yes, well, I think lunch tomorrow—your treat, of course—will get rid of any ill thoughts, don't you?"

Draco shook his head, a small smile on his face.  "You drive a hard bargain, Miss Weasley."

Ginny shrugged.  "I've gotten a few tips. I have a feeling I'll be wanting something expensive."

"Sure, sure," he replied with a wave of his hand.  "G'night."

"Night, 'sir'," she answered, turning back to her filing.

In all rights, the old Draco Malfoy would have called her names, and insulted her family.

But then, after almost getting sentenced to Azkaban for being a Death Eater tends to humble oneself greatly.

~*~

Draco slammed the door to his huge manor, nodding briefly to a house elf.  He handed his coat, and shrugged off his shoes.

He strode down the hall, remembering his younger years.

Coming home from Hogwarts, yelling greetings to his parents, who ended up being in the Master Bedroom, bickering about him.

He had once been under the impression that his mother was a dear old woman who had nothing but his best interests at heart.  Well, events occurring in his last three years proved to him that she wasn't the innocent woman he had hoped she was.  She, too, was influenced by the power, money, and Dark Arts.

Draco frowned, and headed sluggishly towards his bedroom, wondering when this huge house would get to be occupied by more than simply him and house elves.

What he needed was a party.  Yes, a party.  Invite the office, a few old friends…but if Harry Potter so much as dared to step foot into his manor, he was dead.

Engaged or not.

Speaking of…how in the bloody hell did that little bookworm get engaged before Draco Malfoy?  Wasn't he most wanted in school?

Draco sneered at the thought.  Pansy…ugh.  If _she_ so much as dared to set foot in his house as well—after all the things she did—she was going to find that Draco was not all fun and sex.

~*~

Hermione was just settling into her chair when Draco's head popped in.

She let out a startled gasp, clutching her chest.  "Draco!" she scolded, trying to lower her rapid heartbeat.  "You nearly scared me to death!"

He shrugged, stepping into her office.  "The first of many, I hope," he quipped.

She scowled.  "What did you want?"

"I'm having a party," he began, puffing his chest out proudly.

"Congratulations," Hermione told him sardonically.  "I'm so proud, I'm sure.  Your very own bash!  How _smashing."_

Draco frowned, pouting like a little wizard who hadn't gotten the wand he wanted.  "Well, fine, if you're going to be _that_ way…"

Hermione sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.  "Don't tell me I'm _invited_?  What an _honor_.  Again, that was sarcasm, my dear Minister."

Draco continued, ignoring her last statement.  "Yes, you're invited.  But please, refrain from brining Boy Wonder.  It'll make me nauseous."

Hermione pretended to look joyful.  "Really?  Excellent!  I don't believe he has any plans tonight—"

Draco shot her a pointed look, strands of hair falling into his eye again.  Annoyed, he brushed it back, and replied, "Granger.  I'm saying this in all seriousness."

She put on an innocent look.  "As was I."

His shoulders dropped, looking utterly pissed off.  "Do you enjoy being sarcastic like that?  Is this revenge for all those years at school?"

Hermione shrugged.  "It's just fun.  You liked yanking my chains, I like yanking yours.  Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"I'm not wearing anyway," he told her seriously.

Her mouth dropped open in disgust, and her face was absolutely horrified.  "Draco, that's completely _appalling!"_

To her contempt, his face broke into a wide grin.  "That was entirely priceless.  Damn, if I had only had my wand with me—"

"You will die, Malfoy," Hermione hissed, covering her mouth in attempt to stop the upchuck reflex she had been experiencing mere seconds ago.

"Well now, that's certainly not the most welcoming sentence I've gotten since my arrival.  My very own death threat!  I believe that makes me the official Minister," Draco retorted with mock excitement.

She rolled her eyes, and pushed him out of her office.  "I have to work, thanks.  Go dance with joy in your own office, and break your _own mirrors with your reflection!" Hermione yelled to him, as he opened the door to his office._

Draco turned around, and gave her an exaggerated wave and smile of joy.  "Thanks, I will!"

**A/N:** Ok, this was a new idea I just came up with.  To be honest, I'm not sure how great it is, but I liked the plot idea.  It's kinda cute, and intriguing.

So, if you like it, please try and review.  If you don't, try and review anyway.  But keep it nice, eh?  Lol.

For those of you wondering about the new chapter to _Hidden Lioness_, it's getting there.  I've been really busy, and the only reason this is out, is because when I get a new idea, I go crazy if I don't get it written down.

I hope you guys enjoyed this!

[Submitted: July 22, 2003]


	2. Worth A Thousand Words

**_Disclaimer:_** In no way, shape, or form are they mine.  I'll credit little aspects of their personalities, but that's about it.

****

**_Summary: _**_Hermione Granger's life is going great. She's engaged to the perfect man, Harry Potter. She just got a promotion at the Ministry, and was nominated "Most Likely to Succeed" by Witch Weekly._

_But what happens when Mr. Totally Wrong comes into her life? Is he really so wrong? D/Hr_

**Chapter 2: Worth A Thousand Words**

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes, and scoffed.  Striding forward, he ripped down the cheesy banner his house elves had just hung up.

"Now, now, let's not be tacky," he drawled, gazing down at the glittering message, 'Welcome, New Minister!'

He crumpled it into a ball in his hands, and tsked at the house elf in charge.  "Please, no banners.  This is not a five-year-old's birthday party."

The house elf bowed, and apologized profusely.  "Glitzen so sorry, sir!"

Draco waved his hand, and continued down the hall.  In just a few short hours, the party in his honor would begin, and Potter would arrive on the arm of his lovely new secretary.

Nauseating indeed.

He tugged at his robes, and checked the time.  Precisely two hours.

~*~

Hermione looked up from the paper Draco had scrawled for her, and inspected the address.

She wasn't quite sure why she had the impulse to check it, because it wasn't as though the manor was tiny.  It was huge, and seemed cold, loveless.  It was exactly as what a Malfoy would act like.

True, Draco was acting a bit…odd…but Hermione surmised that the scandal involving Pansy and him had caused him to act strangely.

She wiped some snow off the railing of the stone steps leading to the door and shivered.  There were dark green vines creeping up the house, despite it being so cold and damp.

Before Hermione even had the chance to finally raise the silver serpent knocker, the massive door swung open before her.

She must've jumped a foot, from the amused snicker Draco gave from behind the door.

"I'm so glad you found it alright," he smirked, gesturing inside.  After glancing outside for a brief moment, he asked calmly, "No Potter?"

Hermione stuffed her hands into her lavender robes.  "No, he had a last moment…thing."

Draco nodded, and closed the door gently behind him.  "You're late."

She whirled around to face him at the simple statement.  Her eyes creased at the corners, and she eyed him strangely.  "I am not.  You specifically said eight."

He grinned, shaking his head slowly.  "No, I'm afraid you're daft.  I said seven."

"Seven?  Really?  No you didn't!"

Draco rolled his eyes.  "Fine, I said eight.  Whatever.  Either way, everyone's inside that door in front of you, having a lovely time, I'd imagine."

Hermione nodded, and walked towards the door, cringing at the eerie stone serpents sitting coiled, on either side of the door.  "That's not very welcoming," she squeaked, eyeing one of the emerald eyes.  "Those fangs are positively horrifying!"

Draco merely shrugged.  "Well then, I suppose you wouldn't dare rob my house, would you?  Those are enchanted to strike at strangers."

Hermione shrieked, and jumped back, not realizing how close behind her Draco was.

Draco blinked, as she ran into him, knocking him onto the floor.  "You—you just knocked the wind out of me!" he wheezed, with a snarky grin.

"I'm not fat!" Hermione protested, placing her palms on the freezing tiles, preparing to lift herself.

"I never said you were," he replied.  "Having self-esteem issues, are we?" he asked with a sneer.

Hermione scoffed, lifting one hand to brush back the strand of hair that had escaped from her elegant bun.

Of course, as soon as she did that, she came toppling down once more on Draco's chest, causing him to groan in pain.

She blinked, and saw a blinding white flash from the corner of her eye.  "What was that?" she asked him sharply.

~*~

Draco smirked.  "I'd suggest you get off of me, first."

Hermione scrambled to her feet, looking panicked.  "That looked oddly enough like a—"

"Camera flash?" he finished for her, crossing his arms across his chest smugly.  "Yes, it was."

Her jaw dropped, and she made a small noise of terror.  "Camera?  Whose?"

Draco began to glance at his nails nonchalantly.  With an innocent expression he exhaled.  "Did I fail to mention that the media would be following this bash religiously?"

"M-Media?" Hermione stuttered.  "So…so that could be in the papers—"

"It honestly could.  Perhaps you should go mingle now?" he intercepted.

She glared at him.  "I swear—I will hurt you _so_ badly at work!" she hissed viciously, poking his chest.

Draco watched her walk away and called, "I'll be looking forward to Monday, then, shall I?"

He smirked triumphantly when she groaned loudly, and swung open the door, forgetting the statues entirely.

There were a few more snaps of the camera, and Draco waved merrily.  "Now, if I could have those pictures framed, and a smaller one for mum?" he asked mock seriously.

The photographer's eyes widened.  "Really, Minister Malfoy?"

He scoffed.  "No, not really!  If you insist on printing that infernal story that you're cooking up, could we leave out the part where she leaves?  Or at least make it seem like I forced her?  Remember who I am, my dear molester."

The young wizard nodded, and tried to walk down the steps.  "You may go now."

~*~

Hermione huffed, taking off her heels, and flopping ungracefully on her bed.

"I swear to the Gods above that if so much as _one_ picture gets printed, it'll be his head!" she whispered, with a violent slamming of her fist onto her awaiting open palm.

There was a letter on her nightstand.  Which, she gleefully noted, was from Harry.

Hermione smiled to herself, reading how much he loved her, and had to be there in some sort of form before she went to bed.  He was sorry for being unable to make the party…

She was, too.  Maybe if he was there, that picture could have been avoided.  She hated to think what Harry would say if he were to see it.

~*~

When Hermione entered the Ministry building, she felt oddly unwelcome, which was certainly something new for her.  Women stopped typing or whatnot, and glared at her, whispering occasionally.

Feeling a bit unnerved, she rushed up to her floor, and quickly found Ginny.

"_Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed in a disbelieving voice.  She looked quite cross with her, and had her hands placed firmly on her hips.  "I don't _believe_ you!"_

Hermione stared, bewildered.  Finally, she sprang to life and demanded, "What in the bloody hell are you talking about, Gin?"

Ginny's mouth opened.  "_This!" she hissed, brandishing a trashy wizard tabloid.  "What will Harry say?"_

All the air was sucked out of Hermione's lungs.  "No."

"No?  What do you mean 'no'?"

She snatched the paper from Ginny's hands, whirling on her heel.  "I…It—it never occurred to me that he would actually _publish_ this garbage!"

"Garbage?" Ginny echoed, running a hand through her red hair.  "It's right there in picture!"

Hermione turned back to face Ginny, a fiery anger in her expression.  "Didn't it ever strike you as _curious how this picture doesn't move?" she asked calmly, pointing to the still photo of her atop Draco._

Ginny scratched the back of her neck, squinting at the photo.  "Still, Mione, you have to admit it's rather incriminating."

"Oh?  It's not as though I'm kissing him madly, Gin!" Hermione protested.  "I fell on him.  That was it."

Ginny glanced at her, pursing her lips.  "Has Harry seen this?"

"I…hope to Merlin not," Hermione sighed.  "But it seems the Minister and I have a serious discussion in our future."

Ginny smirked.  "Good luck on that.  That'll make you look even worse."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Hermione exclaimed.  "We didn't _do_ anything!  Knowing Draco, he probably arranged this bit…cocky bastard."

~*~

Draco's head shot up at the sound of his closed door being flung open, and banging against the wall.

"What in the bloody hell is this?" Hermione demanded, thrusting forward the front page of a tabloid.  "Did you do this?"

Draco said nothing, but merely stared at his rudely opened door.  He pointed slowly to it, and asked, "Did I not have that closed?  Perhaps I forgot the 'Do Not Disturb' sign with the lovely little scribbling pens on the side."

"Don't ignore my question!" she yelled.

"Putting aside the fact that it was _two_ questions, I'll say again.  Maybe you have mysteriously forgotten how to knock and read, Miss Granger?"

He smirked, noting how infuriated Hermione was.  She tossed down the paper glaring at him.  "Fine," she said gruffly.  "I'll _knock_."

"You do that," he nodded.

Hermione bent over to pick up the tabloid, and walked out the door, shutting it gently.  Seconds later, she knocked on the door and called, "Minister Malfoy, may I come in?"

Draco bent his head, smiling at her overly fake sugary voice.  Looking up again, he yelled through with a grin, "No, I'm afraid I'm rather busy."

She let out an enraged shriek, and flung open the door again.  "Malfoy!" she yelled, slamming it shut again.  "You're not as amusing as you think you are."

He sighed, folding his arms.  Leaning back in his chair, he said calmly, "I said nothing about being amusing.  If I were, I would have a job as a lowly comedian."

"Now," Hermione began, ignoring him, "I want you to explain to me _this thing," she finished, handing him the paper._

Draco put on the silver-rimmed glasses he bought to make him feel intellectual, and examined the page.  He spoke very slowly, as though she were mentally incapable of understanding, "This…is…a…_picture."_

She let out a frustrated groan.  "Thank you.  I knew that.  Please explain what it's _doing there."_

"Well," he began, adjusting his glasses; "it's there to accompany the article about the fiancée of Harry Potter cheating on him."  Draco paused, to let out an extravagant gasp.  "My, my, and with the Minister of Magic, too.  What a power hungry, sl—"

"Don't you finish that sentence," Hermione growled.  She frowned.  "And take off those ridiculous glasses!  They don't even have lenses!"

He looked up from the paper, smiling.  Slowly, he took off the glasses, and lowered the paper.  "Did you need anything else explained?"

"Yes!  Why in Merlin's name is _that picture in the tabloids?  Draco, you should have taken care of it!" Hermione lectured.  "This is my __life on the line!  Not to mention my reputation here at the Ministry!"_

"Calm down.  You'd think you murdered someone by the way you yelled," Draco grumbled, tossing it in the trash.  "It's not as though Harry would break it off, right?"

~*~

"Harry, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked softly, closing the door.  "I thought you were still—"

"What's this?" Harry interrupted, his emerald eyes flashing.  "Care to explain what's going on between you and our—" he paused to open the article, "'devilishly handsome' Minister?"

"Well, at least it's good to know a woman wrote it," she murmured sarcastically.  "Look…Harry, it's really nothing."

"Nothing?" he repeated.  "The woman I'm planning on marrying has a picture on the _front page_ of her sprawled on top of Draco Malfoy, and calls that nothing?  What am I supposed to say here, Hermione?  A picture's worth a thousand words!"

"In any other paper!  This is a _tabloid, Harry.  The worst of it's kind.  Bloody hell, it makes __The Quibbler look like _The Daily Prophet_."_

"Mione, be serious.  This picture is incriminating, and you know it," Harry sighed.  "I'm not sure what you expect me to think, or believe."

Hermione fell onto the sofa next to him.  She grabbed his hand, and looked into his stubborn eyes.  "I expect you to believe _me_," she whispered gently.  "Believe me when I say that Draco Malfoy means nothing to me besides a paycheck.  Believe me when I say that he hasn't changed a bit, and still infuriates me.  Believe me when I say that's not what it looks like.  But most importantly, believe me when I say that I love you."

Harry inhaled sharply, scratching his head.  "You're right," he admitted.  "Maybe I overreacted a tiny bit."

She nodded.  "No harm done."

He bit his lip, and smirked.  "Care to tell me the reasoning behind that rather implicating photo?"

Hermione let out a breath that she had no idea she was holding.  "Believe me when I say he scared me, and I fell?"

He nodded.  "Ok.  I can live with that."

~*~

Ginny glanced at Draco from the top of the menu.  "So," she said slowly, hoping to drag out something.

"So," he repeated, never glancing up at her.

She put the menu down, and folded her hands in her lap.  "This place is nice, Malfoy.  I'll admit it was a good choice."

"Yup.  Nice and expensive, just the way you wanted it, right?" he answered, still skimming the dishes.

"Right," she replied.  Ginny stared at him unwaveringly, hoping he'd get the hint.

Finally, he lowered his menu, eyeing her with amusement.  With the famous Malfoy smirk, "Fishing for details are you?" he drawled.

Not easily embarrassed this time, she nodded politely, and gave him a friendly grin.  "Why, that'd be great.  Perhaps we could start with an explanation of that picture?"

He raised an eyebrow, looking thoughtful.  "Witches these days are rather slow, I gather.  That's what Miss Granger asked.  Once more, I must say it was a witch supposedly happily engaged to Harry Potter, caught in a ridiculously compromising position with the Minister of Magic.  I'd say she was rather power hungry."

"Cut through the crap.  And for Merlin's sake, stop referring to yourself in third person!" Ginny scolded.

He shrugged innocently.  "You asked what it was—"

"No.  I wanted to know what exactly happened to get that picture."

"Miss Weasley—"

"Don't 'Miss Weasley' me," Ginny snapped.  "You're only one year older than me.  My _name_ is Ginny."

"Your name, is in fact, Virginia," Draco amended.

"But everyone calls me Ginny.  So for the love of Merlin, don't talk down to me.  Suddenly becoming Minister of Magic—while I'll never understand it—doesn't give you the right to treat me like a baby.  Don't you think you've down-talked me enough?" she demanded sharply.

"Feisty," Draco commented.

"I'll slap you," she threatened.

"Alright, alright.  Why do you want to know so bad, anyway?  It's not as though I forced her to run and fall on me.  Like I _enjoy_ women being on t—ok, no, that was the wrong way to put it," he grinned at the thought.  "But it wasn't as though I got my jollies off of getting my name pulled into some absurd love triangle.  It undermines my authority, don't you think?"

Ginny groaned.  "That was disgusting.  But no, actually.  It's more like a publicity stunt for you, Draco.  I wouldn't put it past you, to tell the truth."

Before he could retort, the waiter came by, and took their orders.

Draco sipped his water, and glanced at her.  "That wounds me, little Weasley.  I'd never do such a thing!"

She raised her eyebrows.  "Oh, yes you would!  And don't call me little Weasley.  It's stupid."

He rolled his eyes.  "Deal.  Now…if we could move on, please?"

Ginny glared at him, but nodded nonetheless.  "I s'pose it's only fair if you think about it.  You _are_ paying, after all.  But don't think that means you're done," she added, pointing her finger.

"I understand _perfectly_," Draco answered sarcastically, brushing back his silvery blonde hair.  "…Your Highness," he added under his breath.

"Don't think I didn't hear that," Ginny hissed, leveling him with a glare.  "I'll curse you, I swear it."

"Nor do I doubt it."

~*~

Hermione waltzed into Draco's office rather happily, which he regarded as suspicious.

Draco shuffled his paperwork, and cleared his throat.  "What brings you so chipper into my office—once more, without knocking, I might add—so early in the morning?"

She stifled a scoff.  "Your door was open, so don't give me that," she retorted.  "Well, I've come to ask for two week's leave."

He grimaced, and sucked in a lot of air.  "I'm afraid that's not possible, Hermione."

Hermione frowned, placing her hands on her hips indignantly.  "Why not?" she inquired, looking offended.

"Busiest time.  Aside from which, I was just about to call you into here.  It seems we're going to have to visit—"

"No!" she exclaimed in an outburst, stomping her foot in a childish way.

"Pouting won't get you out, I'm afraid," Draco retorted amusedly.  "Add stomping your foot to the list as well."

Hermione groaned.  "Visit where?" she asked stiffly.

He perked up.  "Have a visit to the United States," Draco answered almost joyously.  "It's that time of year again."

She stared at him blankly.  "Time for…?" she began, prompting him for the answer.  "And if you think for one minute I'm leaving England alone with _you, you are sadly mistaken."_

Draco's glacial eyes pierced through her curiously at this declaration.  "Oh?"

"Don't look so shocked.  It isn't becoming on you," Hermione stated.  "…Not that much is," she added quietly.

He chose to ignore that last comment.  "And what are you proposing to do if we _do_ have to go alone.  Righteously bitch your way out?"

"Actually, yes."

Draco smirked.  "In case you didn't notice, I'm the highest up you could go.  There's no one who would do anything _about_ it, honey."

Hermione wrinkled her nose.  "Don't call me 'honey', as I am most certainly _not_ your honey.  And explain to me who else is going, and why we're doing this."

He signed whirling around in his chair a few times before answering her.  "If you really must insist, Ginny Weasley is accompanying you, so the two of you can…blather about whatever it is you do."

"And…?"

"And nothing.  I'm going to look like a wizard pimp on this trip, and that's final!" Draco declared, looking quite serious.

"Hardly," she laughed.  "How do _you know about it anyway?"_

Draco looked offended.  "We have them, too!"

Hermione said nothing to this, just smiled amusedly.  "If you say so…"

"As to the reason of our trip…we're doing a quick check up on the smaller version of the Ministry that they have located there," he answered, his silver eyes focused on the wall beside her.

She turned to his line of vision, and saw a map with blinking lights.  "I assume that the lights are all the little Ministries in the different countries?"

Draco blinked, hair falling in his face.  "Normally I'd tell you that to assume makes an ass out of you and me, but in this case you're right."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and started to play with her chestnut hair out of sheer boredom.  "You're impossible."

"And you're my secretary.  So get to work."

She shot him a withering glare.  "I hope you're happy, Malfoy.  I was going to go on a trip with Harry."

"I'm _ecstatic_," Draco answered sarcastically.  "It is, after all, my life's goal to break you two up so I can have you all to myself."

"I'll ignore that blatant sarcasm in your voice, and pretend you never said that.  So, if you don't mind, I'll be going now.  After all, I have all that _fun work you gave me."_

"That's all I ever wanted!" he called to her as the door eased shut.

**A/N: **I'm sorry it took so long to get out, lol, but I've been really, really busy, what with the new school year approaching.  Aside from which, I got a little stuck in the middle of this chapter.

But I got a review from someone who it seemed was a little mad at me for taking so long, lol, so I wrapped it up.  Speaking of reviews, I got another, which said they were being a little immature.  *Grins sheepishly* Sorry 'bout that, but I couldn't resist.

I realize, yes, that they are a bit OOC, and I feel bad.  So I'm getting to that, and will eventually explain Draco's case a bit later.  Right now, I have a few ideas for this that I know I'll screw up if I try to explain now.  So you'll have to wait, I'm afraid to say.

But at the very least, I hope you enjoyed the bantering and bickering with everyone.  I just really like writing those, lol.

Again, _really_ thanks for those reviews!  They were encouraging, and very nice.  I love y'all for it, you rule!  Lol.  As usual, feel free to leave an email address if you want to be emailed updates.  Only catch is that I'll be emailing for every story, so…sorry.


	3. What DC Has To Offer

**_Disclaimer:_** Once more, with oomph!  _Not_ mine.  The only thing I want ownership of is Justin T.  I'll even settle for part ownership.****

**_Summary: _**_Hermione Granger's life is going great. She's engaged to the perfect man, Harry Potter. She just got a promotion at the Ministry, and was nominated "Most Likely to Succeed" by Witch Weekly._

_But what happens when Mr. Totally Wrong comes into her life? Is he really so wrong? D/Hr_

**Chapter Three: What D.C. Has To Offer**

"You're doing _what_?" Harry demanded in a whiny voice.  "I thought _we were going to go on a trip!  Mione—"_

"Draco's my boss, what am I _supposed_ to do?" Hermione asked helplessly.  "I can't very well refuse it.  He is, after all, my paycheck!"

"How about say, 'No, sorry, I have my fiancé to tend to.  We're going on a trip without you'?" he suggested with a shrug.

"Harry!  Be reasonable!" she scolded, tossing a shirt into her suitcase.  "It's only two weeks."

"Two weeks for him to charm you, two weeks less of wedding planning, two weeks of being apart…" Harry listed jealously.

"Honestly, Harry.  Ginny's coming, too.  I think she'd have enough sense to keep me away from any romantic situations with…_Draco_," Hermione spat.  "It's not like _I'm going to enjoy this trip!  For all _I_ know, some floozy will jump into bed with you!"_

"There's my point.  Don't go."

"Darling.  Please, be reasonable!"

"I've _been_ reasonable!" Harry insisted.  "I let you explain the picture, whereas I could've freaked out, and called the whole thing off.  I'm thinking of our future, here.  Draco is a renowned playboy, who—"

"—Hates my guts," Hermione finished.  "We can't even be in the same room without throwing witty insults at each other!  For God's sake, the man kicked me out for not knocking, then proceeded to tell me he was too busy after I did."

"Flirting.  Plain and clear," he argued, crossing his arms stubbornly.  "He fancies you.  He gets shirty with you as a hidden affection."

"Oh lord, here we go.  Not the 'If a girl hits a boy, she likes you' and 'If a boy teases you, he likes you' spiel.  I heard it enough from my mother.  If that's the case, than let's call it off now, because Draco and I are deeply, madly in love with each other," Hermione deadpanned, pursing her lips.  "We have been as such for many, many years."

"That's not funny, and you know it," Harry grumbled crossly.

Hermione neatly packed in a robe, and sit next to her packed belongings.  "I'm sorry.  But really, love, you're overreacting.  The only thing Draco wants out of me is my misery, and the only thing I want out of him is his money."

She was tempted to say 'booty', referring to pirate's gold, while managing to throw in a sexual reference.  But the look on Harry's face advised her to think better of it.

"I still don't have to like it," he answered, clenching his jaw, his emerald eyes flashing.

"I never said you did," Hermione retorted easily, waving her hand.  "I understand completely, but honey—you have no choice or say in whether or not I go."

"That was rather harsh," Harry bit out.  "It may have a grain of truth, but I'm damn well not going to let you go without you hearing how much I'm against it."

"So I've heard," she assured him, lifting up her bags.  "However…I have to go meet Draco and Ginny now."

Hermione felt a bit horrible at how defensive she was being with her husband-to-be as she felt his eyes bore holes into her back.

~*~

Draco watched Hermione arrive in a huff, looking rather harassed.  She tossed down her bag in front of him, with her jaw set determinedly.

"I hope you're happy!  My fiancé is mad at me, and _four_ men made inappropriate marks towards me!" she lectured, her face red.

He smirked.  "I'll bet _that was a booster of confidence to you.  Four men leering and ogling you; undressing you with their eyes…" he trailed off, the faintest traces of an overly cocky grin appearing as he added, "I do it all the time."_

"What a surprise," she grumbled dryly, scouring the crowds for Ginny.  "Why in Merlin's name are we taking an airplane, when we could apparate?"

Draco shrugged.  "I was in the mood to try a muggle method out.  Besides, Americans don't take kindly to seeing three people pop out of nowhere.  Rather, I'm not sure they'd like to try and explain it away."

"So go to a wizard 'safety zone', if that's what you're worried about!"

"It's not.  I'm only lying.  It's just far too much fun to irritate you," he replied cheerfully.

"And Harry was worried about us hooking up," Hermione murmured just low enough for him to miss it.

"I'm sorry?"

"Harry was rather paranoid.  Got a bit jealous.  Thinks you'd take me away from him," she spat ruefully, glaring hatefully at him.

Draco bit back a nasty remark he would have blurted without hesitation in his younger years.  However, now was different.  Especially if he wanted any hopes of having a peaceful two weeks.

Ginny popped in right next to him, yammering on with Hermione, distracting her.

"Come on then.  Let's go!" he urged, lifting his bag with ease.  "Plane leaves in a short bit, and I have no intentions of missing it."

Hermione glared at him, but followed suit, and forced Ginny to comply as well.  They followed him and boarded the plane.

~*~

It had certainly been a long flight.  _Too long for anyone to be pleasant.  Sitting near each other for such a time was ludicrous, not to mention suicidal._

But Draco, merely for the sole purpose of irking both Hermione and Ginny, was as sunny as…well, the sun.

He was pleased to see Hermione's jaw clenched, and her fists balled up tightly at her side.  Sadly, Ginny looked unfazed.

_But, he reasoned,__ Ginny didn't have to sit next to me.  Hermione did.  So, as long as she's still mad, my goal is complete, he finished childishly._

"What a _lovely_ day in the United States, hmm?" Draco asked, nudging Hermione with a broad smile.  "I always _did enjoy visiting D.C."_

"Fantastic," she grit out through clenched teeth.  "Like the metro was, the plane trip, and that man trying to touch me," she concluded sarcastically.

"Well now, be reasonable.  That last part can't have been too pleasant," he amended, brushing back the loose hair in his left eye.

"Um, that was her point, Draco," Ginny informed him pointedly, blinking through her red bangs.  "_Nothing has been pleasant so far."_

"Oh, come now!  I've been enjoying it!" he protested, halting the car to a stop at the light.  "This muggle method of transportation is simply fascinating."

Hermione seemingly dropped her grumpy mood after she glanced at the level of gas.  "Don't you think we should stop for gas?" she asked amusedly, gesturing to the arrow.

Draco glanced over at it curiously.  "No," he answered slowly, hesitantly.  "It's fine."

"I wouldn't exactly call that fine," Ginny commented, her head beside his, squinting at the position of the arrow.

"What do you mean?" he asked defensively.  "It's almost at 'E'."

Both girls surpressed their giggled as Hermione asked, "And, what do you suppose that stands for?"

"How could you not know?" Draco asked incredulously, pulling over at the nearest gas station just in case.  "'E' stands for 'Excellent', of course."

"Oh?" Ginny asked, with a wide smile.  "And 'F'?"

"'Failure'," he answered slowly.  "We're still fine, see?  It's practically right on top of 'E'."

Hermione and Ginny couldn't stop, and burst out laughing uncontrollably.  He regarded them curiously.

"Alright, if you're so smart, what does it stand for, Granger?" he asked semi-crossly.

After a few moments of catching her breath, Hermione answered in a weak, strangled voice, "'E' is 'Empty'.  'F' is 'Full'.  I assumed since you were so gung-ho about driving, that you _knew_."

He paused slightly, and inhaled.  Draco looked like a light went off in his head, and replied slowly, "_Oh…Well, __that makes more sense…"_

Draco pulled up to a pump, and looked pointedly at Hermione.  "Miss Brilliant just volunteered herself to fill up the tank.  Maybe you could _show me, since I'm sure I'd get __that wrong."_

Hermione glanced back at Ginny before opening the door, and stepped out, ducking back in to glare at him.  "Well?"

"I'm only kidding," he answered loftily.  "I know how, but since you're so smart, I thought you'd like a shot.  So, Ginny," he began, abruptly ignoring Hermione purposely, "What do you think of the place so far?"

Draco watched her look up at Hermione, with a bewildered look.

Hermione huffed, and walked over to the pump, stomping around.  "You're paying, of course."

"No I'm not," Draco called with a smirk.

"Well I'm certainly not!"

"I know.  The Ministry is," Draco answered, presenting her with a card.  "It's enchanted to be any card we need.  Credit, gas station, club card…That's the nice thing about magic.  I don't understand how you muggles live."

"I don't know what you're talking about; '_you muggles_'.  You know perfectly well that aside from holidays and this trip, this the only time I only came to muggle world."

Ginny sighed loudly, cutting them off from their bickering.  "I swear to Gods, it feels like you two are an old married couple."

She cackled wickedly when Hermione protested forcefully, looking horror-struck.

He received an evil glare from Hermione because of the easy manner that he laid back in his reclined seat, a sly smile embedded on his face.

Draco shrugged innocently, peeking through his lengthy locks of hair on his left eye.  "Don't look at me, _I didn't say it."_

~*~

Hermione groaned with boredom from the front seat.  "Where exactly is this American Ministry?" she demanded, slapping Draco's hand away from the radio.  "And _enough with the experimenting with the stations!  This is __fine."_

He gave her a side-glance.  "Who said anything about visiting today?" he asked her, wide-eyed.

"Ugh!  Then what are we doing driving around?"

"Site seeing, of course!" Draco retorted, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  "You thought—oh, I'm sorry."

_Sure you are, she thought tartly._

"Where's our hotel?" she asked peevishly.  "I just want to lie down.  You and Ginny can go muck about, viewing every last museum, but I've had more than enough of you than I can handle."

"Sssssss," Draco remarked sarcastically.  "That burned.  But, I'm sure Ginny would like a companion, and _I'm_ certainly not going alone."

Ginny remained quiet in the back, which Hermione was sure she was doing purposely.  The old wench.

_What a friend.  Leave me hanging to fight my own battles with the vilest boss on Earth, Hermione thought ungraciously._

"You dragged me all the way out here for _two_ weeks, without my fiancé, and you truly expect _me to bend to _your_ wishes?" she exclaimed._

"Do I pay you?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Then that's your answer," Draco interrupted with finality.  "Don't think you can just whine to me, and take advantage of me just because you knew me a few years ago.  I'm still your boss.  I think I've been rather tolerable of your obnoxious ways, long enough."

Hermione gaped at him.  "_Excuse me, but it's a two-way thing, here!  Besides, with the way you dispute everything I say, I think you _enjoy_ bickering with me!"_

"Can't deny that," Draco answered heartily.  "Gives me good practice.  Let someone defy me _now_.  Ha!  I've got some good ones!"

She looked disturbed at his declaration, and glanced at her friend furiously.  "Trade seats with me, _please.  I'm going to drive myself insane?"_

"You aren't now?" Draco asked virtuously.  Before she could snap back, he said, "_Oh!  I just thought of a good thing to threaten newbies at the office back at home!  Listen to this: 'I'm going to work you so hard, you're going to wish your mama never pushed you out.'  How's that?  It would leave only the spunkiest workers."_

Hermione narrowed her eyes, her mouth slightly open, and shook her head in disbelief.  "You're incredible, you know that?"

"I know.  Girls tell me that every time they wake up next to me," he answered with a smug grin.

"Disgusting," she muttered under her breath.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that.  What?"

Hermione sneered at him, and crawled into the back with Ginny.  The car had been stopped, but he pulled forward when she started to get back there.  She stumbled onto the seat, and glared at him hatefully.

"What'd you do that for?" she asked sharply, rubbing her head.

"Green light," Draco answered simply, cruising along.  "So you guys never told me what you thought of that sentence."

"It's great," Ginny answered in a soothing voice.  "Now shut up so I can sleep."

~*~

Hermione watched enviously as Ginny's figure became gradually smaller, incessantly waving at the car.

"Tell me why," she began in a faux calm voice, "why Ginny got to get out of this touring you plan on doing, and I'm still stuck with you?"

"Because Ginny feels ill," Draco answered unblinkingly, never moving his eyes from the road.  "She said so while you took that bathroom break."

She sighed, sinking lower into her chair.  Hermione blinked a few times, Harry's face flittering across her line of vision.  She missed him greatly already.

Scratching her forehead wearily, she asked, "Why in Merlin's name would you want to visit muggle places?"

A tiny smile crossed Draco's serious face, and he shrugged.  "It's interesting.  But…I've decided I'd rather visit the magic places today.  Call it my homesickness feeling."

"Magical places?" Hermione inquired, her interest piqued.  Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all.

He nodded to confirm his statement.  "Of course, it's no Diagon Alley, but it's ok."

"Oh," was all she offered.  She tugged down her shirt, and lazily watched cars zoom by.  There were four red ones in a row.

There was an awkward silence filling the open air, and she felt the oddest urge to fill it with bickering again.

"How's Harry?" Draco asked disinterestedly.  "You never elaborated on how against this he was."

"He could be better," Hermione growled bitterly.  "I can't believe he has no faith in me; our relationship!"

With a smirk, and an exaggerated toss of his silken locks, "Well, I've been known to be a woman magnet."  He flashed a charming smile, and turned back to the road.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, snickering.  "Perhaps," she allowed.  "But let's get real here.  There is no way you could tear me from Harry.  No, not even a pack of Hell Dogs could tear us apart."

"Is that a challenge?" Draco asked inquisitively.  "Are you challenging me?"

She merely rolled her eyes heavenward.  "Try if you like," she retorted without the faintest traces of interest.

He shrugged, and the smile half-faded.  "I was only kidding anyway.  Not even _I would try to break up two members from the old Trio."_

Hermione glanced at him, from the corner of her eye.  "That was actually kind of nice," she admitted with a small smile.

~*~

Draco could tell by the look of fascination in her eyes, that Hermione had never seen the magical shops in D.C.

With great smugness and satisfaction, Draco pulled out his wand, and approached the deserted alley, and poked 10 bricks twice, in no seemingly particular order.

"It's crowded in there," he warned her, grabbing her hand.  "And I need you for work tomorrow, so we can't afford you to be lost."

Hermione followed him effortlessly, weaving through the crowds with ease.  It was amazing how she hadn't protested about him holding her hand.

Draco stopped abruptly, forcing people to turn suddenly in order to avoid him.  "Here's a bookstore," he told her, nodding toward the peculiar building.

"You've been here before?" she asked curiously, glancing up at the store.

"Maybe once," he replied over the chatter, looking around the crowd.  "Here, let's go inside," he added after being shoved aside.

Hermione ducked into the bookstore without further questions, already beginning to immerse herself in the store.

"It's a madhouse," he murmured to himself, brushing off his shirt.  "Absolutely _detest this place."_

About ten minutes later, Hermione emerged from the rows of shelves, two books in tow.

"Quite eager, aren't you?" Draco mentioned in an amused tone of voice as he eyes the size.

She gently shoved his shoulder and got in line.

~*~

Hermione watched the new area in awe, nodding to strangers.  A woman in a neon green set of robes shoved through rudely, and Hermione glanced back at her.

"Some people have no taste," Draco drawled lazily.  "And no manners," he added thoughtfully.

She grinned in agreement, pointing to the navy blue store.  "What's that?" she inquired, peering through the windows.

Draco brushed back his platinum blonde hair out of his eyes, only to have it fall back down.  Frowning, he answered, "It's nothing special.  Just an old charms shop with a creepy owner."

"Let's go in."

"I'd really rather not," he retorted, crossing his arms stubbornly over his blue plaid button-up shirt.

Hermione glared at him, narrowing her honey eyes.  "Tomorrow, I will be fighting with you, there is no doubt.  Do me a favor, and get your stupid arse in that store!"

Draco sneered, looking down at his street clothes.  "I'm indecent," he tried instead, gesturing to the three undone buttons.

"You are _not_.  Button it up."

He buttoned up one, and looked back up at her.  "Nope, still indecent," he grinned obnoxiously.

"_Button it up," Hermione growled dangerously._

Draco repeated his actions once more.  Overly wincing, he said, "So sorry, it's just not right."

_For the love of Merlin, she thought angrily._

"I'll do it _myself_ then," she announced, stepping towards Draco.  Rolling her eyes, and shaking her head, she buttoned the last one.  "Now you're '_decent'," she spat._

Draco's hand snaked out of his pocket, and he grabbed her retreating arm.  "I _don't_ want to go in," he told her firmly, adjusting his grip on her wrist.  "And I _didn't_ give you permission to touch me or my clothing."

Hermione scoffed, yanking her wrist away.  "Get over it.  We're going in."

Draco growled in response.  "The hell I am," he retorted, stalking off.

"What are you afraid of, anyway?!" she yelled after him.

He whirled around, disregarding the wisps of hair in his eye.  "I'm not afraid of _anything," he shouted defiantly, his silver eyes glittering._

"Then let's go in."

Hermione knew she had him at the challenge in her voice.  Draco shoved through the crowd, his jaw set.

"You're a cocky little bitch, aren't you?"

"Not quite."

Hermione watched him swagger in determinedly, shoving open the doors roughly.  He stopped three feet in front of the door, his arms folded.

"What's wrong _now_?" she asked exasperatedly, after bumping into him.

"Granger," acknowledged a cool voice.  "Draco."

Hermione looked up in just enough time to see Draco give the voice a hard glare.  "Parkinson," he replied icily.

**A/N:** It took me longer this time—shameful.  After half of a page of this chapter, I got bored, and had no idea where to go.  But then my dad inspired me.  He's always doing that, and he doesn't even know it.  Lol.

The gas scene belongs to my dad.  We didn't have power for 5 days, and we were driving around.  The arrow was right next to empty, and I said, "Um, shouldn't we get gas?  It's right next to empty."  Then sarcastically, he replied, "No!  I thought the E was for excellent."  Then my mom asked what exactly F stood for, and he answered, "Why failure, of course."

So, I heart my dad.  He gave more inspiration for my next chapter, which I have begun.  So look for that one.

Um, not _too_ much of a cliffhanger here, but oh well.  I included an eensy bit of D/Hr, for any antsy people.  But this particular romance must take _time_ to bloom!  It shall come though.  I very devoted to this fic, since it has so much sarcasm.  That's all I am in a nutshell, really: sarcastic.

Finally, thank you for all of the reviews; you people are fabulous!  It's rather encouraging.  Hopefully, the next chapter will be out sooner.

[Submitted: September 28, 2003]

_(Chapter 2 submitted August 21, 2003)_


	4. Equal Rights

**_Disclaimer:_** And here it is!  I own nothing!  …Except random characters I tossed in just now…

**_Summary: _**_Hermione Granger's life is going great. She's engaged to the perfect man, Harry Potter. She just got a promotion at the Ministry, and was nominated "Most Likely to Succeed" by Witch Weekly._

But what happens when Mr. Totally Wrong comes into her life? Is he really so wrong? D/Hr

**Chapter Four: Equal Rights**

"Pansy?" Hermione asked, the picture of confusion.

"Well, it's nice to see you've lowered your standards to Mudbloods, Draco.  And, Granger, I thought that you were with Potter.  Did he decide he liked a Pureblood better, or are you just the closet whore we all pinned you to be?" Pansy spat cruelly.

"Watch your tongue, Parkinson," Draco growled on her behalf.

"Yes, because it was once down _your_ throat, wasn't it?  Does it suck that for once _I cheated on __you?  Seems you're not the big boss anymore, are you?"_

"On the contrary.  I'm Minister of Magic.  Which is more than I can say for your little fling; Zabini."

"Yes, I imagine that he, for one, is actually getting laid.  Somehow, I don't see Granger giving out, even to you," Pansy retorted.

"You know," Hermione began forcefully, "there's a reason people call you Parkin_slut behind your back!"_

She didn't really seem to be too affected by it.  "Why, because I actually get some?"

"No," Draco answered.  "Because you're an easy lay."

"Oh?  Draco, that hurts," Pansy murmured sarcastically.  "That's not the song you were singing when you caught me with Blaise.  I believe you were quite hurt."

"That was then, Parkinson.  I was a fool."

"Indeed," she agreed coolly.

"Draco, let's just go," Hermione whispered to him, seeing that Pansy clearly wanted it out with him.  "She'll just do something embarrassing."

"Yes, by all means, follow the bitch's instructions.  Seems you've finally been whipped.  Congratulations, Granger," Pansy yelled.  "You've conquered the unconquerable."

"Don't listen to her," Draco bit out.  "I'll come back some other day, and she and I will finish this in _private."_

~*~

Ginny bounced up next to him the next morning, with her bright red hair up in a sloppy ponytail.

"Oooh," she breathed.  "I want a waffle with the Pilsbury Dough Boy on it!"

Draco offered up the one he was about to butter, and she scrunched up her nose.  "It's burnt."

Hermione smiled, noting the crispy color to half of the waffle.  It was most certainly not burnt to any standards.

Draco thought the same way and quipped, "It's not burnt; he's an African American!"

"Why only half?" Hermione piped up, grinning at Draco.

He sputtered in indigence.  "Have you people no shame?  He's an equal rights Pilsbury Doughboy!"

Both Hermione and Ginny burst out laughing, as Draco smiled sheepishly, and offered the buttered and cut waffles to Hermione.

"Thank you," she managed, bringing the plate over to the table.  She tightened her morning robe, and fetched the syrup.  "How nice," she voiced.  "Someone brought out the freshly-squeezed orange juice."

"That would have been me," Draco called back, surprisingly chipper.  "And _I_ squeezed it myself."

"Did you poison it, then?" Hermione yelled jokingly, swirling the glass she had poured.

"I might have.  Why don't you check it?"

Moments later, Ginny appeared in the seat next to hers, and set down her two waffles.  "Let's see if Malfoy can screw up even toasted waffles, hmm?" she asked with a playful grin.

"It tastes alright," Hermione replied through a forkful of waffles.

"Attractive," Ginny scoffed, laughing.

Draco entered the room with nothing more than a coffee and a doughnut.  "Granger always _did know how to impress one with her incredibly lady-like skills," he added sarcastically.  "No wonder she hooked Potter like that."_

"Hey now, before we get into insulting my future husband," Hermione warned, "let's switch topics.  For instance, I never thought an equal rights waffle could taste so good."

Draco smirked momentarily before cockily adding, "I'm nothing but the best."

~*~

The accommodations were nothing short of perfect.

There were two rooms to sleep in, one of which was occupied by Draco, the other utilized by both Hermione and Ginny—for their girl talk, and whatnot.

Each room had its accompanying bathroom, which wasn't too much of a problem until the girls became fussy.

All in all, Draco was impressed that the hotel could come up with such a nice place.  It had a decent sized kitchen, and a 'quaint' as Hermione had phrased it living room.

But today was not a day he was looking forward to, because he was going to go handle things with Pansy, once and for all today.  This time, Hermione (and Ginny) would be out of his way.

In fact, standing just outside the tiny shop, Draco began questioning if he really _needed_ closure with the witch.

He frowned at the ringing bells, and chose to lean against a wall until Pansy looked up to notice him.

"Back so soon?" she asked bitterly upon noticing him.  "Where's your little tagalong today?  With another wizard already?"

"Don't be so hopelessly scornful, Parkinson," he greeted.  "I've come to discuss the matter at hand."

"'The matter at hand'," Pansy repeated slowly, testing the words out in her mouth.  "Is that what you call it now?"

Draco rolled his blue eyes, but looked her straight on.  "Well, it depends on what you believe it is that I'm referring to, doesn't it?"

"Our past relationship?" she offered, in the form of a question.  "How's that for starters?"

"Right," he answered, launching himself from the wall he had been slouching against.  "Well then, yes, that's what I was referring to."

"You know, that's precisely why you can't keep a woman, Malfoy," Pansy stated, her dark eyes piercing into him.

He perked an eyebrow.  "Oh?  Why is that?"

Pansy walked over to him, then past him, towards the door.  She flipped the sign to 'Closed' on the outside.  Lowering the blinds magically, she turned to him.  "Not everything is business, Draco."

"No, indeed, it's not," he mused in agreement, shoving his hands into his tan slacks.  "But I'm not following you."

She conjured up a chair, but didn't sit on it.  Instead, she paced around it, refusing to meet his intense gaze.  "_Business_ was exactly how you treated our relationship."

"That was then, Pans," Draco sighed, following her with his eyes.  "You know that neither of us were happy in the relationship.  To be blunt, I was only in it for my father."

"Yes, because I was the key to lots, and lots of money, right?" Pansy retaliated, finally looking at him.

"Don't pull that on me," Draco snapped, quickly losing his patience.  "You know that if we had stayed together, and married, you would have gotten in on it, too. That's the _only reason you stayed with me."_

Pansy pursed her lips, glaring at him harshly.  "Don't tell me why I did the things I did."

"Then why did you do it, then?" he challenged.

"Maybe!" she exclaimed, "_Maybe_ I thought things could be like they were in Hogwarts again!"

"Yes, and sleeping with Blaise Zabini sure did the trick, didn't it?"

"Only if I was playing the part of _you_," she grit out.

He leveled her with a glare fiercer than hers.  "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Pansy let out a bitter laugh.  "Oh come on, Draco.  I may be no Hermione, but that's not to say I'm an idiot.  You don't think girls talk?  You don't think they would flaunt sleeping with you in my face?  They _hated_ me, Draco."

"Yes, well, did it ever occur to you that they were yanking your chains, Pans?" Draco asked icily.  "I may be the son of my father, but that doesn't mean I don't honor my relationships."

Pansy brushed her black hair behind her ears and looked at him, long and hard.  "What are you saying, Malfoy?"

"I'm saying that I _never_ cheated on you while we were together."

~*~

Hermione followed Ginny outside, blinking against the harsh light of the sun.  "What do you think Malfoy went to go take care of?"

Ginny adjusted the strap to her purse, and shrugged.  "I don't really know, nor do I care.  He can do whatever he wants, but I want to go explore some.  What do you say?"

Hermione bit her lip, gazing around the street.  "Alright," she agreed, stepping onto the sidewalk.  "Where to?"

Ginny opened the door to the car, while turning back to face her.  "Anywhere, really.  Let's just drive, and see what we make of it."

~*~

Harry tapped his fingers impatiently on the table, bouncing his leg up and down, looking over at his friend occasionally.

Ron stared back expectantly, lifting an eyebrow.  "Harry, just what are you doing?  Here, I mean."

Harry ran a hand through his raven-black hair, and moved his head slightly.  "Hermione went on a trip."

"Oh?  Well that's nice.  I think she needs a break from all that planning, and the stress of marrying a bloke like you—" he began joking.

"With Malfoy," he added grumpily.

"Don't you trust her?" Ron asked, moving his quill to the right of him.  "It's Hermione we're talking about.  She and Draco hate each other, last I checked.  Now, while I'll admit that picture suggested a few things—and I may have chucked a book or two—but I always knew she loved you."

"Of course I trust her!" Harry boomed.

His cheeks tinged slightly pink as the heads of the students snapped up from their test.

"You know, Harry, you're my best mate and all, but…I really think that maybe now isn't the best time," Ron whispered, once they had turned back to the parchment in front of them.

"And I know you're right," Harry granted, looking over at a girl who periodically looked up at him and blushed whenever he caught her.  "God knows that girl over there fancies me," he added, jerking his head over to her, "but I really need to talk to someone other than Dumbledore."

"Patricia," Ron identified softly.  He turned to his friend, a skeptical look on his face.  "Merlin, you went to _Dumbledore_ over this?"

Harry looked a little ashamed, and nodded his head.

"Excuse me, for just one moment, class," Ron announced.

He led Harry outside, and eased the door shut.

"Don't worry, they're a Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years.  I can guarantee absolutely no problems," he assured Harry at the look on his face.

"Oh."

"Now, Harry, old bloke, Dumbledore's a great man and all," Ron began, gripping Harry's shoulders, "but that isn't the matter you should go converse with him about.  You can always come to me, you know that?"

"I know," Harry answered, shoving Ron's hands off his shoulders.  He ran a finger over his scar and frowned.  "I'm just very paranoid, and overprotective of her."

"Hermione's a good girl, mate."

"I know she is.  But Malfoy isn't a good boy, now is he?"

Ron bit his lip, and glanced down at the floor.  He moved his gaze to the door, then to Harry.  "Malfoy wouldn't try anything."

"How can you be so sure?"

"What did Dumbledore say?"

"To trust them," Harry replied quickly, shaking his head.  "I just don't know.  I begged her not to go, and I feel terrible for doing that to her, knowing full well her career was on the line…"

"But…"

"I told you, Ron!  I get overprotective!  She's a great person, and I'm lucky to have a girl like Hermione.  I just…I often wonder if other wizards want the same thing."

~*~

"You never answered my question, you know," Pansy said softly, finally settled into the chair.

"What question?" Draco asked warily, stretching his arms along the sofa he had conjured.

"Where's your assistant?"

"Secretary," he corrected automatically.  "She's off with Ginny, I suppose.  Exploring the place, visiting a few strip bars, shopping…"

Pansy burst out laughing against her own will.  "Strip bar?  I never figured Little Miss Priss for that type of thing."

He shrugged nonchalantly.  "You never really know, do you, Pans?"

She sighed suddenly, rising out of her chair.

"What's the matter now?" he asked, leaning further back into the pillows.

"So you're Minister of Magic now, hmm?  Will wonders never cease?" Pansy mused, a faint grin on her face.  "It's been your goal since we were five.  Although, for different reasons each year."

"Yeah…"

"Then I suppose a congratulations is in order, right?"

"Whatever floats your boat," Draco drawled lazily, with a smirk.

"Don't hold your breath, though."

"Aw, you disappoint, dear Pansy," he pouted, rising from his couch as well.  "Haven't you learned yet?"

"Learned what?" she asked flipping the sign back over.

"Malfoys get what they want," he answered simply.

She whirled around to face him, her black hair fanning out.  "And just what is it that you want?" she asked needlessly.

"Many things.  None that you can give me, really," Draco replied lazily, blinking.  He brushed the loose hair out of his eye.

"Tell me.  What do you _really think of our old mudblood?"_

~*~

Hermione waved to the man passing by, vaguely placing him as her cousin Bobby.

Ginny looked at her strangely, waiting for an explanation.

"An old cousin of mine," she explained loftily, her eyes scanning over the objects.  "This is a great museum, you know?"

"Uh huh," Ginny sighed, rolling her eyes.  "'Mione, you know that this is really boring, don't you?"

"What?" she exclaimed, tearing her eyes away from the video.  "It's simply _fascinating_.  I didn't get to learn much about the Holocaust myself, and…"

"Hermione."

"Ok, fine!  We'll leave and get that ice cream I promised you," Hermione hissed, taking off the headphones.  "Goodness, you're so _pushy!"_

"How do you think I got to where I am in life?" Ginny asked, smirking uncannily like Draco.

"Don't think I've never wondered," Hermione murmured, looking darkly over at her redheaded friend.

~*~

Ron had somehow managed to comfort his friend in need, and sighed with satisfaction.  He entered the room, wondering who had finished their tests.

His jaw dropped at the sight of Peter Longbottom, who was dangling on the chandelier.  Keagan Keller was standing beneath him, his wand raised.

"Why is it always _me_?" Peter moaned as the light spun slowly.

At the sight of the Ron, Keagan pocketed his wand, and looked at him innocently.

"_Hufflepuffs," Ron muttered under his breath, sweeping his gaze over the shocked students.  "Alright.  Who started this?"_

Simultaneously, all fingers pointed at Keagan, and he scowled.

"Detention, Keller.  My room, eight o'clock tomorrow night," Ron ordered, pointing to Keagan's seat.

Raising his own wand, Ron lowered Peter into his seat, shaking his head in disbelief.  "A trait you inherited from your father, no doubt," he sighed, walking over to his table.  "Finish your tests."

Peter raised his hand timidly.

"Yes, Longbottom?"

Before he got the chance to speak, Peter fainted.

"Another trait from Neville," Ron murmured amusedly.  "Lacey, Hannah, take Longbottom to Madame Pomfrey.  I'm sure she could use a laugh today."

A collective chuckle rose from the students.

**A/N:** Be proud!  I'm updating everything!

So as usual, I hope this was all to your liking…I enjoyed some of it.  Although, I admit, not as much sarcasm and humor…I did my best.

I also must credit my dad for the waffle scene as well.  Honestly, he's a riot.  He is the _weirdest_ inspiration, I swear…

Read, review, enjoy!

[Submitted: December 7, 2003]


	5. Pissing Match

**_Disclaimer:_ **I don't own anything here. Except random people I sprinkle in for good measure. :D

Sorry for the delay, guys!!

* * *

Chapter Five: Pissing Match

* * *

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. "Lord help me, I'll _never_ be able to have children…" he muttered under his breath irately.

The drunken man looked up at him inquisitively, and smiled over at Hermione. She winced in disgust, and turned helplessly to Draco.

"Look," he began in a falsely calm voice, "I don't have the _time_ nor the patience to wait for you to pull it out and look for it."

Hermione's eyes got big, and she gaped at him. "_Draco_!" she hissed, covering her mouth to keep from laughing.

He shot her an innocent look, and tugged at the man's elbow. "Harrison, I'm taking you home. This isn't the place for you to go piss in some random bush."

Jack Harrison followed his lead to the car without much fuss, and didn't even protest when he was shoved roughly into the backseat.

Hermione climbed into the front seat, biting her lip.

"Go on, smile. I know you want to," Draco said breezily. "Harrison is far too wasted to remember this. I expect he'll be passing out any second now."

She playfully hit his arm, and let a smile cross her lips. "Draco, we need to get him home, _now_. This is such an upstanding wizard restaurant!"

He nodded, and started off. "I can't believe the damn American Minister put him under my watch! _I'm_ here to inspect _him_, not the other way around!" Draco seethed, tossing a dirty look Jack's way.

"Merlin, it's only for tonight, Draco," Hermione sighed. "You're such a brat, I swear."

He flashed a childish grin, and turned to Jack. "No hurling, or I'll have your head, understood?"

---

Ginny was lazily sprawled over the couch beside the door when they arrived 'home' thirty minutes later.

"I get the feeling you've been faking sick this entire time," Hermione muttered darkly.

Ginny pretended to not hear, and threw a coughing fit just for her friend. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" she croaked, rubbing the base of her throat. "I didn't quite catch that."

"Forget it," Hermione snapped, closing the door behind their male companion.

"I'm right tired," Draco yawned, stretching his arms languidly. "I think you two girls should get in bed. Especially the faker," he added, smirking amusedly at Ginny.

She scowled. "Shut your trap, Malfoy."

"_Minister_ Malfoy, if you please," he corrected.

Hermione and Ginny watched him leave them, and quietly close the door to his room.

"He's a royal ass, that one," Ginny frowned. "But…I _have_ to admit—he's a handsome one."

"And he's a _disinterested_ handsome royal ass," Hermione replied, immediately flushing, and covering her mouth.

Ginny perked up at the admittance, and grinned slyly. "Handsome, really?"

"Y-You supplied the term!" Hermione snipped defensively.

Ginny merely cackled, and held up her hands in surrender. "I won't push it. But only because of Harry. How is he, anyway?"

"Jealous, as usual," Hermione answered easily. "Honestly, he has no faith in me. Harry makes it out to sound as though I throw Draco down on a bed and do things I shouldn't be doing."

"Why do you even put up with him?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Draco? I have no choice…he _is_ my boss, after all."

"No, I meant Harry."

Hermione seemed caught off guard by the question, and sat onto the couch with Ginny. "Well, I-I love him, Gin."

"You don't sound too sure of yourself."

"I am!" she argued, nearing a stage of anger. "What are you saying? Of course I love him! I would—I'd never lead him on like that!"

"I didn't say that," Ginny assured her quietly. "Calm down, I didn't mean it offensively."

"Well then, how _did_ you mean it? We're a good match—a smart one. He's an honest man, we're friends, and I trust him."

"Good matches don't always mean they're the _right_ ones," she answered gently.

Hermione glared at her. "Why are we even onto this topic? I don't even understand why you brought it up."

"Nothing, forget it."

---

"How did you two lovely women sleep last night?" Draco drawled, stretching out his body for the last time.

Hermione watched his arms go around to one side, then the other before answering. "Wonderful," she sarcastically bit out.

He raised an eyebrow, causing those familiar locks of hair to fall into his eye. "Explain the tone, Granger."

"It's nothing."

Ginny inhaled and lifted her eyebrows. "She's just bitter about last night," she further explained, but leaving it at that.

"Oooooookay," he drew out, rolling his head around. "In any case, the agenda today is yet another free one. I suggest that if Granger is having second doubts, she may want to pay Scarhead a visit today," Draco added with a grin.

Before she could react, he disappeared with a _pop!_

"I hate it _so_ much when he does that!" Hermione growled, a pink blush coloring her cheeks. "What exactly did he hear last night?"

---

_ Ah, Granger,_ Draco thought smugly. Her buttons were far too easy to push, and smirked at the memory of last night.

The conversation had taken an ugly turn, with Ginny being brave enough to voice the things on _his_ own mind. Not that he quite cared either way what she did.

But it was still a healthy curiosity.

Pansy surpressed a smile as he led her by the small of her back to a place she didn't know.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked inquisitively, clutching his free hand. "Draco!" she whined, grinning like mad. "Tell me!"

"Shh," he smiled, breathing on her ear. "Let me concentrate," he teased, running a finger along her blindfold.

Pansy squirmed, and sighed. "I remember the last time you did this," she reminisced wistfully. "We had some great times, hmm?"

Draco bent his head over her shoulder, allowing his hair to tickle her exposed skin. "_Oh_ yeah, we did," he replied, smirking contentedly. "Remember that time? In the bathroom, and Myrtle was being a nosy little brat—"

"_Draco_!" Pansy gasped, swatting blindly at him.

"—just because you were muttering about how hard it was—"

"Draco, not in public, please!" she protested.

"—But you ate the damn cookie anyway," he finished, a corner of his mouth lifting.

Pansy growled, yet sighed in relief.

"Why, what did you _think_ I was talking about?"

"Forget it."

Draco nodded briefly, not letting him smirk once more in self-satisfaction. "Right, we're here now, Pans."

He deftly untied the knot, letting the handkerchief fall to the ground.

Her eyes swept over the place, and let her mouth fall. "It's gorgeous," she finally breathed, turning towards him.

"I know," he whispered, running a hand along her jaw. "Come on," he prompted, leading her to a spot in the gardens. "I brought lunch."

She smiled sincerely at him, and admitted, "No one since you has done this, you know?"

"I had seriously hoped for it," he quipped, brushing his pale blonde hair behind his ear. "Here, have a cookie."

Pansy accepted the cookie, and squeezed it lightly. "It's so _hard_!" she teased, grinning at him, and tossing it. "I hope it leaves a bruise," she stated when it bounced off Draco's forehead.

"Wound me with your words."

"I _do_ try," she responded merrily, leaning back. She inhaled the fresh air, closing her eyes. "You've always been surprisingly romantic."

He smirked at her, and flicked at an imaginary ant. "Well, what's a relationship without spontaneity?" he asked off-handedly.

"Relationship?" Pansy asked with a raised brow. She tried to hide a smile from him, but he caught it easily.

--

Hermione paced around Harry's apartment deep in thought. It had only been four days since she left. Suddenly just being in his place made her doubt his faithfulness, and tens of dozens of scenarios jumped into her mind immediately. Most going along the lines of him bringing in another woman, unaware of her presence. 

_ Don't be ridiculous, Hermione, _she scolded herself. _You're being silly and childish._

She sighed deeply, choosing to sit on his couch and turn on the TV to take her mind off things. Maybe… a nice sitcom would be on.

Without even noticing, Harry had slipped in ten minutes. With company.

Hermione's head snapped up at the sound of the keychain sliding along the bar. She made a soft whimpering sound at the sight of the girl.

What was this, a soap opera?

Harry noticed her once she made the pitiful sound, and looked immediately guilty. Hermione knew that he had just confirmed her suspicions.

"Who is this?" she demanded angrily and slightly irrationally. "Only four days gone, and _already _there you go! Not that I should have suspected any less!" she seethed, unsure of exactly what she was saying.

"W-what?" Harry sputtered indignantly. "You think—"

"Harry, I promised I wouldn't do anything! I've stuck _by_ that promise! You were so worried about me cheating on me; how do you go and do the exact thing you yelled at me for?" she asked heatedly, glaring at the girl. "And what do you have to say for yourself, hmm?"

_ Slut,_ Hermione thought with hatred.

She gave no chance for either to try and defend themselves, because she had let Ginny's words go to her head last night. She was too sure that the entire relationship was falling apart.

Without waiting, she apparated out, back to D.C. She had forgotten, of course, that it was dangerous to apparate when emotionally unstable. Never know where you may end up.

---

When Draco came home, he was shocked to find the normally clean place completely trashed.

"What the…?!" he exclaimed angrily, peering around. Had someone broken in while he was gone? "Hello?" he called.

There was a sound coming from Hermione and Ginny's room, which he went bravely to investigate.

The one thing he was _not _prepared for was Hermione, sitting cross-legged on her bed, crying her already red eyes out.

This was not a comfortable situation for him at all. The only time he could speak to her intelligibly was when they were in a battle of wits (which he was clearly more armed to win).

Draco was debating backing out of the room when she looked up and saw him. Feeling mean, he cursed inwardly.

Another thing he was entirely unprepared for was her reaction to his presence.

Hermione leapt from her position on the bed and threw her arms around him, clearly recognizing him as the first friendly person to cross her path since the wave of tears commenced.

She buried her head in his clothes, letting one pitiful sob escape. "Oh Draco," came her muffled voice.

"What's wrong?" he asked her gently. "Granger, what's got you so messed up?"

"It's…it's Harry," Hermione moaned, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in anger. "He ruined _everything_."

"What'd the bint do?" Draco growled, displeased that Boy Wonder had sent his secretary into a fit.

"I went over to visit him—to surprise him," she whispered. "I hadn't heard from him since I left, and I was worried he was mad at me."

"He's stupid," Draco said in attempt to toss her worries aside.

"I know," Hermione scoffed tearfully. "That's what I keep telling myself, anyway. At first, I was angry."

"I noticed that the apartment was the one to take the beating," Draco said with a humorous smirk.

"I'm sorry," she replied sheepishly.

"It'll survive, I think," he quipped, brushing back the hair that fell in his eye when he shook his head at her. Gently moving her head up, Draco forced her to look at him. "What did he do?" he asked softly.

"He came home with… with someone else," she told him in a voice barely above a whisper.

He cursed under his breath. "Do you want me to take care of him?" Draco asked out of a kindness to her, and an urge to kill the man who'd annoyed him since the age of eleven.

"No, I-I'm going to go back and talk to him…eventually… I need to sort things out before I jump off the edge," Hermione stuttered.

"I think it's a bit late for that," he joked.

Hermione gave him a week smile, and stepped out of the embrace she'd pulled him into. She sniffed and murmured, "Thank you."

Draco nodded in reply, and left her alone. "I'll fetch Ginny," he offered.

"No, don't bother. I'm alright," Hermione assured him.

---

Pansy noticed Draco was unusually silent as he stared fixedly at the menu with his head slightly bowed.

"What's wrong?" she asked concernedly.

"It's nothing with me," he started. "It's just an old annoyance of mine has just ruined… Never mind. Pansy, let's not worry about that, ok?"

She tucked her hair behind her ears, and nodded hesitantly. "I'm here if you want to talk about it," she assured him. "I'll always be."

He smiled at her, his gray eyes regaining some sparkle. "Thank you," Draco replied, the flecks of blue in his eyes twinkling.

"Ready to order?" she asked with a smirk, nodding to the approaching waitress. "I know what I'm getting."

---

Harry glanced at the clock, completely torn up.

What Hermione had witnessed wasn't at all what she thought! He cursed again, remembering how upset she had become.

He wasn't stupid enough to give up a girl like her. Who would be?

Harry desperately wanted to visit her, but had no idea where she was. Aside from that minor difficulty, he doubted highly she would listen to him.

So he made the decision to go visit Ron again. Damn it all to hell, he better not have a class right now.

Ron glanced at Harry, who was standing in the doorway of his classroom once again. He gave him a pointed look, telling him to go away.

Harry glared at him and mouthed that he should just send the kids away.

Ron sighed, and turned to his class of Gryffindors and Slytherins who'd been watching with interest.

"Class is dismissed early," he announced with a sigh. "For homework, write me a foot-long essay on Fairies based on the things we've covered this past week."

The kids rushed out of the classroom, glad that the stranger they pushed past had been the cause of their early dismissal.

"Lord, Potter!" Ron exclaimed. "Once word gets around, everyone will think I just ignore or dismiss my classes for the smallest things."

"And is that so bad?" Harry asked. "You'll be the coolest professor around."

"Yeah. 'Did you hear about Professor Weasley? Don't worry about his class, he never teaches anyway.'"

Harry smiled faintly.

"So what's the matter this time? It must be important if you visit me _twice_ in a 24 hour period," Ron joked.

"Well, it's about Hermione again," Harry admitted.

"Great, I knew it. Any more of these talks, and I'm going to have to start charging you for these sessions, mate. Do I look like your psychiatrist?" Ron asked, pointing to himself as if to emphasize his point.

"No, my psychiatrist isn't that hideous," Harry shot back, hoping this pissing match would distract him from his worries.

"Oh, oh that's nice, Harry. Say _that_ to the guy who helps you out, huh?"

* * *

**A/N: **Lol, long time no update, eh? I'm sorry for the wait! It's just I got a bit of a block. I finally got my bum in gear and finished it today. Not much humor, I'm sorry, but it's called DRAMA. Heh, w/e. Again…sighs Credit to me dad for the first scene. That was him and my brother (neither drunk, I'm sorry). Too funny.

Anyway, I was going to leave it off without the Harry part, but for one it was too short, and for another, I decided not to let people get mad at me. Haha.

As always, hope you enjoyed it. Read, review, and LIKE IT. innocent look And again, sorry for taking so _damn long_. At least it's summer now. Any suggestions you guys want to make, I'll read. If I like it (and it fits, mind you), I'll use it and credit yoo.

**P.S.**—Check out my new story! It's JP/LE, but I've made them like Draco and Hermione with their bickering and such. 3 you guys!

[_Submitted_: June 11, 2004]


	6. Stop, Rewind, and Replay

**_Disclaimer:_ **So not mine. I wish.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Stop, Rewind, and Replay**

* * *

An old tabloid was slapped down on the table next to the pitcher of pumpkin juice and his now infamous equal rights waffles. He shook his thin blonde locks out of his eyesight, and fixed the face that belonged to the hand with a glare.

"By any chance, could you refresh my memory on this particular edition?" Hermione asked with a glare gracing her own face.

"And what _is _it exactly with you always asking me to decipher an article for you?" Draco asked with a mock sigh. "If I had known you had troubles reading simple little tabloids, I would've thought twice about keeping you on my staff."

She raised an eyebrow at his suppressed cough. "I'm going to ignore that delayed reaction to your own words."

"I couldn't ignore the blatantly sexual reference my keen mind usually delivers with purpose," he offered in explanation.

"I gathered," Hermione replied dryly. "As I was saying… Do you remember this lovely edition?"

With a dramatic sigh, Draco delicately put on his glasses and squinted at the loud, obnoxious print on the page.

As he did this, Hermione put a hand on her hip in irritation, and snatched his glasses.

"Hey!" he protested, grabbing for them back. "That's my swottiest pair!"

"You are _such_ a child!" she scolded, narrowing her eyes. "Harry does _not _tape his glasses together anymore! So stop trying to mock him with lens-less glasses, for Merlin's sake!"

"I thought you didn't even like him anymore?" Draco answered while leaning back in his chair. He smirked at the thought of escaping her question once more.

"That's – I never said that," Hermione stammered.

"Silly me," he drawled lazily. "And here I thought the demolished appearance of the hotel apartment and the teary-eyed statement of 'He came home with someone else, the bastard,' implied some form of dislike."

"That was never any of your business!" she screeched. "I was just upset last night, and – and I've sorted it all out."

"Ah. So you'll have him Mondays through Fridays? And the slag has him for weekends and holidays?" Draco quipped. "Between you and me, I think she's got the better deal. What with having to see less of his scrawny little face, and all."

Hermione's face flushed in anger, and he could see her trying various inane methods in her head to try and calm down. A small twinge of guilt flickered inside him, but he pushed it aside when he glanced down at the paper.

"Forget it. It was stupid trying to actually _trust _a ferret like you!" she seethed, storming off.

"Oi, I thought that ferret business was all water under the bridge! I don't recall a monsoon parading through and drudging it all back up again!" he shouted after her before slumping into his chair.

**_PANSY PARKINSON PLUCKED BY BLAISE ZABINI! And Draco Malfoy's Blaze of Fury!_** screamed up at him in flashing print, followed by an incriminating shot of Blaise touching a not-so-conspicuously blurred out body part on Pansy.

---

"Here's the deal, Rhonda," Harry said in a crisp tone. "I need you to make me look really, _really _good."

"That shouldn't be too much of a problem," the blonde replied with an easy smile. "With me by your side, there's absolutely no way you could ever look anything less."

Harry grinned as she tousled his messy hair fondly. "Good. That's what I was looking to hear."

"So, before we get down to business," Rhonda began, clearing her throat in an undeniably professional tone, "I need you to explain to me exactly what yesterday was all about."

"Oh. _That_," he said despondently, feeling the lightness in his heart sink at the mention of it. "That was something I'd really rather not explain."

"Well, '_that_,' as you so kindly put it is something that I think I deserve to know. When a strange, jealous woman is sitting inside your apartment and accuses _me_ of being a cheap slag, I tend to get a little curious."

"I always forget how new you are," Harry replied with a forced chuckle. "I'm so used to people knowing everything about me… it's not everyday I find a born-again witch, tired of the Muggle world."

"I apologize for being so ignorant," Rhonda snapped sarcastically. "Now if I could have the explanation as to why that _cow_ was ranting at _me_, of all people!"

"Look," he said sharply, fixing the blonde with a glare, "that _cow _just so happens to be Hermione Granger."

"And that means _so _much to me," she retorted, hands on her hip in an irritated motherly fashion. "Harry James Potter, I demand to know who she thinks she _is_! I wasn't aware that having dinner with you and coming back to your apartment was a crime. Care to enlighten me?"

"In case you hadn't gathered, I'm kind of attached to her. Hence, the jealous episode you witnessed. I've been a little tough on her about her boss, but I can't help it when she goes to a foreign country and spends the time with my _enemy_."

"Attached how?" Rhonda asked, raising a brow in aggravation. "Potter, you have to be telling me these kinds of things, or our relationship can't go on at all!"

"Look, she's my fiancée, ok?" Harry exhaled, feeling the annoyance creeping up. "When I hired you, I expected you to have at least a _little _bit of knowledge about my life. Living outside my world doesn't cut it."

"Let's not go around accusing me of not doing my job, shall we? You hired me because I'm the best of the best, and I have a record to prove it," she growled.

"You have to find a way to help me make it up to her," he pleaded. "That's what you do! …More or less."

"_No_, what I do is make you look good in front of the public. Harry, I'm just your PR person. I'm not the Love Doctor!" she protested. "That's something you need to work out for yourself. From what I saw, you picked yourself a fiery one who's quick to judge. While not the most redeeming quality in a woman, you still have to solve it alone."

He frowned, already having accepted this obstacle as something at the very top of his very long To-Do List.

"Besides, she doesn't strike me as the type to want to have me involved in anything you do to make it up to her."

---

Hermione sighed, feeling lonely and betrayed by everyone who surrounded her. She hugged her knees tighter to her chest, and stared at the fireplace.

For the first time in her life, she had no idea what to do. There was no game plan, no schemes, and no glimmer of hope spread before her. She felt unbearably lost.

"Just let me explain," came the plea that drifted up brokenly to her ears. "Please, Hermione, you need to listen to me."

"How did you get this connection?" Hermione asked hoarsely, turning away from the fire that now took the shape of Harry Potter's crushed face. "I don't know how many ways I can tell you to stay away from me."

"Never mind how I got it," Harry replied, brushing off the question. "Please, _please_, you need to know that it wasn't at all how you thought it was!"

"I get it, ok?" she said. "I get that you were scared. Scared of commitment. And you needed something to take the edge off, and that something was obviously another woman. It doesn't matter if she didn't mean anything or if it was just a one time thing."

"I'm sorry that that's what you think," he said sorrowfully.

"No. You're just sorry you were caught," she bit out harshly. "But that's the way the world works, now isn't it?"

"That's not fair!" Harry shouted. And as she took a peek, his features changed from rejection to anger.

"Tough!"

"Did I shut you out when I saw that picture? I've let you explain your way out of things time and time again. Even against my better _judgment_! You know how much I hate him."

"All you saw was a still picture. I saw the real thing. And if you ask me, you two looked pretty cozy. So I'm sorry I interrupted your night of _fun_," Hermione hissed.

"Why don't you GET IT??" Harry demanded loudly. "I LOVE YOU! I WOULD NEVER…" He trailed off, and she could see his eyes soften. Even the fire couldn't mask his easy-to-read facial expressions. "I would never hurt you," he finished quietly.

Hermione felt the wrenching of her own heart, perfectly reflecting the pain in his disjointed voice. She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending for one sweet moment that everything was ok, and inhaled the warm air.

"It's too stuffy in here," she mumbled in reply, and got up from her spot. "I-I'll talk to you later. I just…"

"Hermione," his voice begged.

"You know my vivid imagination," Hermione answered apologetically, with a sad smile that didn't reach her eyes.

She didn't even look back to see his famous face settle back into burning embers as she walked away.

---

Ginny's eyes followed the restless Draco Malfoy pacing the front of the American Ministry.

"I need to see more of it," he mused to himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully and stopping every so often just to gaze up at the tall, but modest white building.

"You know, if you keep that up…" she joked.

"And you know what else?" he demanded, stopping suddenly to look at the redhead. "I gave that prat the connection address to our apartment fireplace for _nothing_! That obnoxious, no-good…_brat_ can reach us anytime! But _Hermione_ refuses to take his messages."

"Err… I'm sorry?" Ginny replied in confusion.

"This is what I get when I try to play matchmaker! A bloody mess that includes Potter's all-access pass to my home!"

"And maybe this can be the part where you stop, rewind, and replay what you're blathering on about?" she asked in a smart tone, losing patience as his rant went on.

Draco stopped his pacing again, and stared Ginny down, looking lost in thought once more. His masterful mind was working overtime, so to speak. Considering how little it was _used_ to working, of course.

"Do you think if I gave him a withering look and a _serious_ talking to that he'd leave us alone? It's been known to work before."

"Malfoy, honestly, your so-called 'withering looks' are pathetic," Ginny commented, fighting back a smile. "Harry Potter is a much more determined man than that. _Now_, could you please explain to me just what in the bloody _hell _you are going on about?"

"This ridiculous mess that Granger's gotten herself into!" Draco half-shouted, slipping back into the comfort of referring to her last name only. "You know, it's always been my policy to put my employees first—"

Ginny scoffed, and pasted on a surprised look when he responded with an affronted one.

"_Yes_, I value the happiness of my employees! Because happy workers mean diligent work and diligent work means more money for me! And money makes me happy," he explained slowly, as though to a small child.

"The wonders of a full circle," she commented dryly.

"So you see? Ultimately, Granger's happiness equals _my _happiness." He paused. "That is, after a very long, _separated_ chain of events that lead to my happy thoughts. I am not _directly_ affected by —"

"Don't feel the need to explain to _me_," Ginny interrupted with her hands in surrender position. "I understand _all _too well the way Hermione makes men feel."

"I-_What_? _Excuse me_?" Draco choked out, flabbergasted. He perfectly imitated the sound of a car coming to an abrupt halt (much like theirs did every time they allowed him behind the wheel). "Back up. Stop, rewind, and replay those words – this time to a manner of my liking," he insisted, mocking her earlier words.

"Feeling particularly guilty about something else?" she asked innocently. "I was referring to the awful way Harry must be feeling right about now."

"Oh. Oh, yes. I see," he mused quietly, his eyes darting around, focusing on anything but the redhead before him.

---

Ron watched the last Slytherin slither its way out of his classroom before focusing weary eyes on Harry Potter.

"You know," he complained loudly after sealing the door, "I'm starting to rethink that 'Come visit me whenever you want' invitation. Harry, mate, you have _got _to stop dropping by whenever you fuck up royally, do you understand?"

"Hey!" Harry replied indignantly. "I _waited_! I let them finish their tests, now didn't I?"

"Snape has been shooting me dirty looks. Er, dirtier than usual," Ron corrected himself. "Dumbledore likes you too much to tell you to piss off, you know. Snape's mentioned in passing that he's all to willing to do it himself. He's _ornery_," Ron commented in a whisper, despite the deserted room. "He'll do it, too."

"Ron, I'm not afraid of Professor Snape," Harry replied matter-of-factly. "Look, I have important things that I need to discuss with you! I need help!"

"I haven't been arguing on that one," Ron said under his breath.

"_You_ dated Hermione," Harry shoved on, ignoring the dig. "_You've_ royally fucked up before. Tell me how to fix it!"

"In case you hadn't noticed, mate, _we're not together anymore_."

"Well, that's beside the point, innit? She's caught you with another girl, hasn't she?" Harry asked desperately.

"Between you and me, mate, I would never _dare_ to see someone else behind her back. So there's nothing to be caught," Ron reminded him smugly.

"Well, what of that Lavender girl then?"

"That was _before_ Hermione and I got together. Boy, was she sore about that one," Ron mused to himself. "But I've never made her as hopping mad as you have. I thought we solved this when you _last_ visited. How could you have possibly messed up in a ten hour time period?"

"She wouldn't listen to me! I need something more than 'just talk to her,' I'm afraid," Harry sighed in defeat.

"I think, then, that you're going to have to get Ginny and Malfoy to help you," Ron suggested.

"What?! _Ferret_ boy?"

"Who else has the all-access pass to Hermione Granger?"

---

"_No_."

"Oh, come on, Malfoy! I actually got down on my knees and begged!" Harry whined, his face contorting into anger. "You said if I did, you'd help me."

"I'm Slytherin. I'll say anything to get you to do what I want," Draco answered simply, analyzing the nails on his left hand. He blew on them, shaking his hand gently before looking up to meet Potter's eyes.

"Malfoy, on the name of all that's magical, if you don't help me, I swear—"

"Look, Potter. Even I know Hermione's volatile temper, and I wouldn't help you with a ten-foot pole if it meant she'd come after me next," he explained, suddenly wishing Hermione hadn't snatched his rather amusing glasses so he could mock his foe.

"She'd listen to me eventually, and all I need is for you to trick her into speeding up the process. I have a plan and everything!"

"Oh, really?" Draco asked with interested. "And here I thought you needed Hermione for such things. …Have you been chatting with Dumbledore?" he asked suspiciously.

"I—Never mind that! The point is, I have a plan! All I need is for you to whisper some magic words and then you can watch me fall flat on my face," Harry pleaded.

"Confident, aren't we?" Draco chuckled.

"So you'll help?"

"Of course not! Who do you think I am, a Hufflepuff?" Draco asked, affronted.

* * *

**A/N:** So it's been a solid 2 years and then some. You've probably thought I died or something lol. But no. I've pretty much given up on getting back my original copy of this chapter from my ratty old computer, so I just started fresh. 

I hope you guys liked this chapter, I feel like I did pretty well on it. I'm not sure how things will go from here on out as far as updating (and by updating I mean everything in progress) because I've been at a creative halt lately. Anyway, so please review and let me know that you all are still alive. Otherwise, I'm just not going to bother trying to keep adding things. It gets harder every chapter, so I would appreciate it a lot if you guys let me know how I'm doing.

Thanks for sticking with me, it means a lot!


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